


Fall to Darkness

by CheezPretzel



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheezPretzel/pseuds/CheezPretzel
Summary: Herobrine. The name sends chills down any veteran Minecraft player's spine. However, before he was the creature who haunted Minecraft, he was someone else. Everyone knows he's evil, but why? What made him like this? How did a blind little boy wipe out an entire race? Why did he do it? Prequel to Minecraft: The Original Adventure (Can be read as a stand-alone). Dark Themes.
Relationships: Herobrine/Entity303
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a sort of prequel to Minecraft: The Original Adventure, my other Minecraft story. This can still be read as a standalone, if you don’t want to read the original.   
> NOTE: I am perfectly aware that, in Minecraft lore, Herobrine is the brother of Notch, not Steve, however, in order to fit in with my fanon Minecraft universe, I altered the lore a bit.
> 
> Also NOTE: I don’t own Minecraft.

Ever since his birth, he could not see.

He wasn’t the first child of his parents. The first had been a girl named Rana who had died after a zombie attack at the age of five. Abigail and Samuel Blocker, his parents had been disappointed by his lack of sight, but, as anyone in the village could confirm, they, like the pioneers they were, took their son’s blindness into account and moved on with their lives. 

By the age of five, he could navigate his home with no help. At seven, if someone was guiding him, he could move about the village comfortably. 

All in all, his life was good. A little mundane, but good. He had food, water, shelter, a family who loved him, and protection from the creatures of the night.

Monday was a market day in the village. Everyone set up shop to trade goods and socialize. However, families who did not have anything to trade were still taken care of. For example, Mary Smith and her two children, Kyle Smith and Nissa Smith had plenty to eat and a place to stay, despite the fact that Mary’s husband Rodger had died protecting the village from a rogue phantom, or old man Fenwald, who lived on the streets most of the time, particularly because he was too stubborn to receive help.

Fenwald and Herobrine could be considered friends. Fenwald liked to complain and tell stories, and Herobrine was a generally quiet child who sat still for long periods of time. 

“Tell me about The Farlands again,” Herobrine asked Fenwald one Monday evening.

“Harumph!” Fenwald growled, stretching out across the stone stairs on the path. “You always ask for that. I’ve told it far to many times.”

“Please?” Herobrine asked, and Fenwald sighed. 

“Fine,” He pulled his legs back and sat cross-legged. “Far away, thousands and thousands of miles from our village is the mystical Farlands.”

“What do they look like?” Herobrine asked. 

“You always ask that,” Fenwald grumbled. “They stretch thousands of miles into the air and are made up of chunks of earth suspended by forces we do not understand. Plants, such as grass and trees still grow there, and water and lava flow, as they should.”

“Well, why is it so bad?” Herobrine asked.

“You always ask that,” Fenwald grumbled with an eye roll. “There are unnatural creatures that call The Farlands home. Being inside feels… unnatural. You feel watched, preyed upon, hunted. It’s terrifying.”

“I understand,” Herobrine nodded. “What else?”

“There’s nothing else,” Fenwald snapped. “Run along now.”

Herobrine laid a hand on a nearby building and stood up slowly, as to not fall over. He stretched out his legs.

“Next time bring some food,” Fenwald grumbled, crawling back into the gray-black alleyway, barely lit with the orange sun setting beneath the wall that surrounded the village.

“There you are!” A voice called from behind Herobrine. He turned around and someone took his hand. It was Ella, the mayor’s daughter. She was eleven, a whole year older than Herobrine, but she was still his best friend. Ella had gold-brown eyes, fair skin, and long black hair. Herobrine couldn’t see colors, but Ella had once let him feel her hair, and he liked the touch. Black was soft. 

She took his arm and linked it into hers. “Watch out, there’s a step.”

Herobrine lifted his foot a little higher to step up. Ella guided him down the streets, carefully making sure that he didn’t accidentally fall. The going was slow, but it was also calming. Herobrine gripped her arm thoughtfully.

“Why do you always hang around Fenwald anyway?” Ella asked. “Step closer to me.”

Herobrine followed her command. “I like Fenwald. He tells stories.”

“Oh,” Ella answered, relaxing her grip slightly. “He doesn’t like children very much.”

“He’s just lonely, I think,” He answered. “Besides, it’s not as if I can read a book for entertainment anyway.” He added sadly.

“Maybe someone will invent a way,” Ella pointed out, stopping him gently. “Or you can ask your parents.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Herobrine answered. “We’re here aren’t we?”

Ella laughed softly. “Smart boy. Yes, we’re right outside your house.”

Herobrine grinned and gingerly reached out with one hand until his fingers brushed the door. He found the doorknob and twisted it, pushing the door open.

“Are you going to be okay?” Ella asked as he walked inside.

“Yeah,” He answered, pushing the door shut. “Bye!”

He shut the door and moved inside his home. Herobrine reached out until he found the long string tied from a knob at the door that lead around the room.

Holding onto the string, he began to move around the room, towards the kitchen. After a little while, he let go of the coarse string and took hold of one with little knots tied in it, moving through the living room.

“Well, I don’t know!?!” He heard his father shout from the kitchen and flinched. His parents were often fighting, and though they tried not to do it in front of them, Herobrine was a quiet child who could slip into rooms quietly.

“What do you want me to do?” His mother responded. “It’s too late to stop it now!”

“I. don’t. Know!” Samuel answered.

“Mom?” Herobrine walked into the kitchen. “Dad?”

“Oh, Herobrine!” Abigail said, sounding surprised. “Dinner’s on the table if you want to sit down.”

“Well, great, now he’s heard,” Samuel grumbled. Herobrine pretended not to hear him and climbed into his chair.

Abigail and Samuel came over and sat down at the table near their son. Abigail began dishing out rabbit stew to her family.

“Did you do anything fun today?” She asked Herobrine, setting a bowl in front of him.

Herobrine picked up a spoon. “Fenwald told me about The Farlands.” He took a bite.

“The Farlands are a myth,” Samuel snapped. “The sooner you stop believing in fairy tales the better.”

“Samuel,” Abigail said sharply, and her husband fell silent. “That’s wonderful, Hero.” She addressed her son.

She glanced at her husband, then back to her son. “Herobrine, there’s something your father and I need to tell you.”

Herobrine took another bite of stew. “What?”

“You know that Ella has two younger siblings, right?” She asked him. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Yes,” He answered. “Their names are Monica and Carlo. Why?”

“I know their names, Hero,” She reminded him gently. “You don’t have any brothers and sisters, however, and well…” Abigail trailed off.

“Well, what?” Herobrine asked.

“You’re going to have a younger brother or sister,” Abigail replied.

If they could, his eyes would have lit up. “Really!?”

“Yes,” She laid her hand on his. “Now finish dinner and head up to bed. Your father and I need to talk.”

“Okay,” Herobrine said happily and continued eating.

  
  


Later, in his bed that night, Herobrine lay silently and tried not to listen to his parents shouting in the kitchen.

_ I can’t wait for my sibling to be born. _ He thought with a groan, rolling over to face the wall.  _ Then I’ll finally have someone to talk to. _

He lay silently as his parents continued their screaming, and, within minutes, was fast asleep.

  
  
  


“It’s here! It’s here!” the midwife shouted, catching the baby and lifting it. “It’s a boy!”

“A boy!” Abigail cried, tears running down her cheeks. 

“Check his eyes,” Samuel shouted. 

The Midwife looked over the baby in her arms, sniping the umbilical cord and cleaning the child off. “He looks alright to me.”

“Can I hold him?” Herobrine asked, getting up from where he was sitting. As a rather quiet child, Herobrine found that he could get into pretty much anywhere by not speaking and moving slowly.

“Let your mother have a turn first, okay?” The Midwife replied, handing the baby to Abigail.

“Oh look at him, Samuel,” She whispered, cradling her newborn son. “He’s perfect.”

Samuel folded his arms over his chest. “When he can see, hear, speak, smell, taste, think, and touch just fine, then he’ll be perfect.”

Herobrine, standing behind his father, ducked his head, feeling as though he’d been punched in the gut.

“Samuel!” Abigail snapped. “Don’t talk like that in front of Herobrine!”

“Why not!?” Samuel half-shouted. “The sooner he learns that he’s a useless embarrassment, the better.”

Herobrine whimpered and sniffed, trying not to cry.

“Oh, look what you’ve done!” Abigail shouted at her husband. “You’ve made him cry!”

Herobrine wiped the tears off his cheeks. “I’m not crying!” He turned and fled the room, walking outside as fast as he could and sitting down on the yellowed grass. 

The hot summer air brushed against his skin, and he pulled his legs up to his chest, sadly.

“Herobrine!” Fenwald called from the street. “What are you doing outside?”

“Being an embarrassment,” Herobrine muttered. 

Fenwald walked up and sat beside him. “Your father down on you?”

“Mphf,” Herobrine answered. “My little brother is apparently more important than I am.”

“You don’t know that,” Fenwald argued. “Your father is just a prideful man. He wants something so bad and didn’t get it. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

“I don’t know,” Herobrine grumbled with a sigh. “It’s just that he doesn’t love me because my eyes don’t work. I can do so many things. I can ride a horse, or go to the market. I can even chop wood if I’m careful, and yet he just doesn’t love me.”

“That’s bad, buddy,” Fenwald answered. 

“Thanks,” Herobrine growled sarcastically. “That makes me feel  _ so _ much better.”

Fenwald rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t know how to fix your family, okay. I’m just trying to help by listening.”

“Whatever,” Herobrine muttered, standing up and walking back to the house.

“Hero!” His mother called. “Do you want to hold Steven?”

“No,” He called back, taking the railing to the stairs and walking up to his room. He sat down on his bed and curled up, sobbing.  _ It’s not fair. It’s never fair. No one loves me. No one cares. I could probably just die and no one would care. _

He sobbed some more and rolled over.

From downstairs, an infant wailed.

_ Oh shut up you stupid baby, _ Herobrine felt like shouting. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the mattress and thought about his father. He hated his father. Samuel Blacker should die. Herobrine wouldn’t even care. It wouldn’t even matter.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Years passed quickly. Herobrine turned from a naive ten-year-old to a capable teenager. His brother grew from a pudgy baby to an inquisitive five-year-old.

Steven, or Steve, was the talk of the village. He was the cute one, the smart one, the one who needed all the attention. He was the one who deserved all the attention.

After only two years, Steve, it seemed, was more important than his blind brother. Even Fenwald enjoyed telling stories to the child. Herobrine became invisible to everyone but Ella, and even she was mesmerized by Steve. He was a friendly child who agreed with people easily. 

Finally, however, it was time for Herobrine to prove he was a man. Time for him to show the village that he was finally an adult. The yearly logging trip was what he had been looking forward to all this time. 

Every October, the villagers sent out a group of men to go logging and sent their sons along. A child would leave a boy and return a man. The trip lasted a whole month, and Herobrine had been looking forward to it all summer.

Most boys went on the journey at twelve, but when Herobrine had asked Samuel if they could go, Samuel had replied with ‘maybe when you’re fifteen’.

Now he was fifteen and excited to go.

That night, at dinner, he decided to make his move.

“What day are we leaving?” He asked his father over the roast chicken his mother had made.

“Leaving for where?” His father asked, glancing up from the chicken he was eating.

“You know,” Herobrine’s forehead wrinkled with worry. “The logging trip.”

“Oh,” Samuel nodded. “I’m leaving in a week. Why?”

“...I’m not coming with you?” Herobrine asked, confused.

Samuel burst out laughing. “A blind boy with an axe surrounded by a group of men with sharp objects? Of course you’re not coming!”

“But…” Herobrine cut in. “You said when I was twelve that we could go when I was fifteen!”

“Samuel…” Abigail began.

“Now don’t you start, Abigail,” Samuel told her. “Look, Herobrine, you’re not coming. It’s too dangerous.”

“I can handle an axe fine!” Herobrine protested.

“Where’s brother going?” Steve asked Samuel. 

“Nowhere,” Samuel answered. “He’s going nowhere.”

Herobrine stood up and shoved his chair in so violently that it crashed against the table. He turned and stormed off to his room in a huffy rush. Inside his room, he grabbed a few of his possessions. A bed, some torches, and a small carving Ella had made him. He shoved all of it into his inventory and climbed into bed.

When Steve’s bedtime came, he went upstairs and walked over to his brother’s bed.

“I love you, Hero,” He whispered.

_ Self-righteous little jerk. _ Herobrine thought to himself, pretending to be asleep. As soon as the house was quiet and he was sure that all the occupants were no longer awake, he slipped out of his room and made his way silently down the stairs. He crept into the kitchen and found one of the cupboards, opening it.

There was a crash as a frying pan fell out of the cupboard and clattered to the floor.

Herobrine froze.

A light flicked on.

“Hero?” His mother asked. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry!” He cried out, turning around so he could hear her better.

She approached him and took one of his hands. “What for? You’re not in any trouble.”

“Mom, I… I can’t stay here any longer,” He sighed. “I can’t do it. I have to find out who I am.”

Abigail sighed and pulled her son in for a hug. “Can I at least help you pack?”

Herobrine pulled away, tears streaming down his face. “Please.”

Abigail pulled a few loaves of bread from the pantry and handed them to him along with some cooked steak to her son. She added a few carrots and an apple as well, before smiling softly as he left the room.

She followed him out to the barn, where he saddled up his favorite horse, Debbie, and swung himself into the saddle.

“Are you going to be alright?” Abigail asked her son.

“I’ll be fine, mom,” He answered. “Debbie can see alright, I have enough food, and I know where I’m going.”

“Where are you going?” His mother asked.

Herobrine smiled. “The Farlands.”


	2. The Farlands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part two is here! Herobrine journeys to and enters the Farlands, where he finds something rather surprising…

The journey was long, but he was prepared for it. Despite his blindness, he could still set traps for animals like chickens and rabbits, so he never ran out of food. Debbie was his favorite horse for a reason, and that reason was that she understood that when the sun went down, the world became a dangerous place for a blind fifteen-year-old armed with nothing but an axe.

The first night and day, they left the forests and crossed a prairie, before camping in the mountains. Far from home, Herobrine missed his mother. He wished she was there to protect him, the way she always did around his father, but she had to stay home to take care of his brother.

Herobrine thought about his brother. What a self-righteous little jerk. Didn’t he know how he had ruined everything? How everyone loved him and ignored Herobrine? He growled and brought his legs up to his chest. Fenwald had once told him that there were higher forces that resided in the Farlands. Higher forces with powers that some would consider unnatural.

When he was a little kid, Abigail had told him to ‘wish upon a star’ and all his dreams would come true. Herobrine never fully understood the idea of that, since he couldn’t see the stars, so what was the point?

He had tried anyway, wishing for his sight. Wishing for the experience of color, or being able to see patterns or anything, but it hadn't happened. He hoped that whatever supernatural being resided in the Farlands would be able to help him. 

On the second day of his journey, he crossed the mountains and came to another forest, this one with tall spruce wood, podzol on the ground and boulders of mossy stone that sat quietly, almost as if they were waiting for someone to come along. While he galloped through the forest, it began to snow, and he could feel the flakes on his nose and cheeks. 

While he was riding, a little girl, who had a berry picking basket in one arm, skipped in front of Debbie.

The horse panicked, rearing up with a screaming whinny. Herobrine grabbed her reigns just in time to avoid being thrown from her back. 

“Easy, Debbie, easy,” He stroked her neck and she nickered, calming a bit. Herobrine glanced forward. “Who’s there, and what were you thinking!?”

The little girl giggled. “I’m a girl, and I didn’t see your horse.”

“What’s your name?” Herobrine asked her.

He couldn’t see, but she puffed her chest out proudly. “I’m Alex!”

“Oh,” If he could, he would’ve rolled his eyes at her prideful tone. “Very nice. What are you doing out in the forest by yourself?”

“I’m berry picking,” She held up a basket. “See?”

“Er,” Herobrine paused. He was about to tell her that he was blind but didn’t exactly feel like explaining that to a four-year-old. “Yes. Cool. Where are your parents?”

“That way,” She pointed. “I think….”

Herobrine climbed off his horse and, with Debbie’s reigns in one hand, he took Alex’s with his other. “Will you show me?”

“Sure!” She answered excitedly, and took off at a run, half dragging Herobrine through the forest after her.

He tried to slow her down, but the child had a death grip on his arm and was as fast as an ocelot on a sugar high. “Slow down!” He finally called, and Alex slowed a little, to the point where she wasn’t pulling him, and rather he could walk beside her instead of being pulled along like a broken minecart.

“What are your parents like?” He asked her.

“They’re really nice,” She answered. “My mama is the prettiest woman in the whole world, and my daddy is the best with a bow.” Alex paused in her talking. “They also told me not to talk to strangers, but that’s okay because we’re not strangers, we’re friends.”

Herobrine sighed.

They entered a clearing; Herobrine could tell because the wind was faster and more prominent out in the open and because the snow became heavier and less blocked by trees. Also because Debbie was practically pulling his arm off while trying to eat the meadow grass.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaddyyyyy!” Alex called, letting go of Herobrine’s arm and sprinting forward towards her father, one man standing in a group of loggers, both male and female.

A man with auburn hair and beard turned around from the tree he was working on to scoop up his daughter and sweep her into a hug. Alex squealed and laughed.

Herobrine scowled. In his village, girls weren't allowed outside the safety of the walls, for it was far too dangerous for them in the outside world, and here were these rugged taiga forest people, letting a four-year-old run wild through the woods.

“What is it, Alex?” The auburn-haired man asked his daughter.

“I found someone!” She exclaimed proudly. “And I talked to him because he’s not a stranger he’s a friend!”

“Oh, very neat, sweetie,” He smiled at his daughter. “Will you take me to meet him?”

“Yeah!” Alex exclaimed, leading her father over to where Herobrine stood, beneath the open gray sky.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr, um…” Herobrine trailed off.

“Mr. Archer,” The man answered gently, offering a hand. “And you are?”

“Herobrine Blocker,” Herobrine answered, taking Mr. Archer’s hand and shaking it.

“What’s a kid like you doing out here all alone?” The older man asked.

“I’m fifteen,” Herobrine muttered under his breath, but then spoke up. “I’m on a quest. I need to find the Farlands.”

“Farlands, eh?” Mr. Archer asked. “Few people have ever returned from there. What business do  _ you _ have going to no man’s land?”

“I’m blind,” Herobrine confessed. “I think whatever's in Farlands can help me gain my sight.”

Mr. Archer laughed softly. “As long as you know what you’re doing. Can I help you with anything?”

“No, I’m alright,” Herobrine answered. “But I do need to get going.” He motioned to Debbie, who was going to town on the meadow grass.

“Alright then,” Mr. Archer nodded. “As long as you know what you’re doing, then, good luck on your quest.”

“Thank you,” Herobrine answered, walking back to Debbie and swinging himself up onto her broad back. He picked up the reigns and she galloped off. 

As he rode, he focused again to try and find the internal compass that every Minecraftian had inside them. The internal compass pointed to their spawn point. To where they were born, to their roots. It was like a lifeline, connecting them to their past. Herobrine found his compass, focused on the pull, and went the opposite direction.

The third day was uneventful. He rode through the forest for most of it before he came out to a beach. Most of his afternoon was spent along the edge of the ocean, and, although he went inland to camp for the night, the air smelled like salt and fish.

_ I greatly dislike this smell. _ Herobrine decided.  _ Maybe after my sight is restored I can wish this away as well. _

Debbie, it appeared, enjoyed eating the saltgrass, which meant Herobrine also had to deal with her chewing all night long.

The fourth day, Herobrine stayed near the ocean for most of the morning, but by noon he had already headed inland. Debbie galloped across the flat prairies, with their rushing grasses and beautiful flowers, and the wind that never, ever stopped blowing. 

Even Herobrine could not resist stretching his arms out to feel all of the air around him. The warm prairie wind, the salty breeze from the ocean, and the bright sun on his back all made for a wonderful ride across the prairie, but eventually, Debbie balked.

She whinnied anxiously, and Herobrine climbed off her back.

His internal compass was going crazy. For every step he took forward, it tugged on him so hard he almost fell over backward. He pressed forward another step, and by this time he was almost dragged back to where Debbie was standing. He ignored the feeling and forced himself to take the last step. The step that would carry him into the Farlands. Here was the threshold. The edge of his known world. Was he ready to enter this strange place? The answer was yes. Herobrine grunted with effort and took the final step into the Farlands.

  
  


The effect was disconcerting.

His internal compass felt as if it had completely shut down. There was no pull towards anywhere.

_ Okay, that’s odd… _ Herobrine thought to himself as he took another step forward, straight into a wall of earth.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed, stepping backward away from whatever he had just run into, and stretched out a hand, laying in on the cool dirt. He moved to the left, keeping his hand on the wall until it suddenly fell away from him. He grabbed it back and realized that the wall had not just suddenly disappeared, it had made a left turn.

He kept his hand on the wall and journeyed into the Farlands. He walked at a brisk pace, unwilling to stop and let something hunt him.

A second pair of footsteps joined him, and Herobrine froze. The footsteps stopped. He took a step forward. The footsteps didn’t return.

A shiver went up his spine, and he quickened his pace. A zombie growled, sounding both hundreds of blocks away and right next to him at the same time. Herobrine flinched away from the sound and continued walking.

He finally came to what he assumed was a large open area. He took a step forward, straight into a wall. 

“Ah,” He stumbled back, and took another step forward, to lay a hand on this wall the way he had done before, but the wall was gone, almost as if it never existed in the first place.

Herobrine shuddered but continued moving forward. He came to an actual open area and turned in a full circle, trying to discern where he was.

A beam of light fell from the ceiling, lighting the cleared area. Mobs hung at the edges of the light but didn’t come out. 

“Who’s there?” Herobrine called to no one.

A dark purple-black smoke began to fill the clearing, blocking the light and surrounding the blind teenager.

“Come out!” Herobrine demanded. He had had enough of this terrible place.

_ What’s this? _

Herobrine jumped. The words had been spoken directly into his mind. “My name is Herobrine Blocker. Who am I talking to?”

_ Herobrine…. _ The thought questioned.  _ A good name. A strong name. However, it means ‘unknown’? Why are you here, Unknown? _

“I seek the spirit of the Farlands,” Herobrine answered. “I’m blind, and I’d like the basic bodily function of sight.”

_ You have sought me out?  _ The voice asked.  _ Interesting… _

If he could, Herobrine would have rolled his eyes. “I don’t know who or what you are, but if you could direct me to the spirit of the Farlands, that’d be great.”

The voice laughed.  _ Child, I  _ am _ the spirit of the Farlands. _

“Oh,” Herobrine’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I’ll just leave then.” He sadly walked back in the direction he came from. “You’re obviously not powerful enough to give me my sight.”

_ NO!  _ The Spirit called.  _ Wait! I can give you your sight! I can give you a lover! I can force your parents to care about you more than your brother! _

Herobrine froze and turned around. “Tell me more.”

_ Perhaps if we made a deal…. _ The spirit started.

Herobrine sighed.  _ Not interested. _

_ Fine. But I have something that might tempt you.  _ The spirit replied.

Herobrine’s shoulders slumped in annoyance. 

_ This.  _ The spirit whispered, and suddenly, Herobrine could see.

Everything was so… weird. He could see colors, the green of the grass, the brown of the earth, the dark blackness that lay ahead of him. It was so overwhelming that Herobrine had to sit down. Finally, he could match the things he had heard about all his life to the things he now saw! Zombies looked creepily close to humans, skeletons stood out, bone-white. Even the darkness ahead of him was similar to when he had felt Ella’s hair as a child. It was deep and soft, just like he’d imagined. 

“Wow,” He breathed as the vision faded away. “HEY!”

_ Sorry, _ the voice apologized, not sounding sorry.  _ But magic comes with a price. You do something for me, and I’ll do something for you. _

The glimpse of the world Herobrine had seen was enough to ignite his hunger for more. More sight. More colors. More… everything. “What do you want me to do?”

_ The King Of The Nether has an unbreakable sword of diamonds, enchanted with the most ancient of the spellbooks.  _ The spirit explained.  _ Bring the spellbook to me, and you shall receive your sight. _

Herobrine stood and straightened up, feeling his spine crack in a dozen places. “I’ll leave immediately.”

_ NO! _ The spirit shouted.  _ You are not ready! If you leave now you will be killed! _

Herobrine sighed and sat back down. “What do you want me to do, then?”

_ Practice. _ The spirit answered. A stick appeared directly in front of Herobrine, and the blind boy found that he knew exactly where it was. He had somehow developed a sixth sense. It was similar to sight, but rather than having to see things and calculate where they were in his head, Herobrine simply knew where they were.

_ Cool _ . He thought to himself.  _ This might be better than sight. _ He briefly considered leaving, but the spirit threatened to call off the deal if he left, so Herobrine stayed.

_ Now, _ The spirit instructed.  _ Take the stick in your hands. _

It paused, and Herobrine could sense another figure stepping forward. One of the zombies appeared. The zombie had a stick as well.

_ Three, two, one… _ The voice counted down.  _ FIGHT! _

The zombie leapt forward with a snarl, and Herobrine had hardly a few seconds to leap back before the undead night creature smacked the stick out of his hands and across the clearing. Herobrine took a step back, and the zombie followed eagerly.

“Um,” He called to the spirit. “Are you going to do anything?”

_ This is your fight now. _ The voice answered. 

“Gee, thanks,” Herobrine muttered, dodging a swing from the zombie. He scanned the room and quickly located his stick on the other side of the room. 

This time, the zombie hit its mark, smacking Herobrine so hard with the stick that tears sprang to the Minecraftian’s eyes and he cried out.

_ Well, that was very heroic,  _ the spirit grumbled sarcastically.

“It would be more heroic if you’d actually  _ help _ me,” Herobrine snapped, leaping forward to avoid another blow. “What do you want for the ability to heal instantly?”

_ You catch on quick, _ the voice commented as Herobrine rubbed his bruised shoulder.  _ Let me think…. _

Herobrine darted towards his stick. “Go ahead and take your time, it’s not like I’m avoiding death here or anything.”

_ Oh, please, _ the spirit snapped.  _ If you think  _ one _ zombie with a stick is threatening, you should visit the Nether. _

Herobrine growled something that the spirit should’ve been glad not to catch.

_ Alright, I’ve got it. _ The spirit finally said, as the zombie dropped his stick and raked his claws across Herobrine’s bruised shoulder.

Herobrine cried out in pain. “WHAT!?”

_ Your ability to feel love, _ the voice hissed maniacally.

“Okay!” Herobrine answered with a shout. “Just do it already.”

_ Your loss, _ The spirit answered.

The pain across Herobrine’s back vanished, and he gasped, then grinned. Finally, he was invincible. He leapt past the zombie and grabbed his axe, removing the night creature's head with one well-aimed swing.

He took a few deep breaths but was unsurprised to not feel even the slightest bit of remorse for the dead creature.

_ Hmm… _ the voice wondered.  _ I’m impressed. _

“See,” Herobrine growled. “I can hold my own.”

_ So I see, _ The voice answered.  _ But you are still young and foolish. It will be a long time before you can fight any sort of Nether king. _

Herobrine smiled and sank to his knees before the spirit. “Then teach me.”


	3. The Nether

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Herobrine journeys to the Nether where he meets old allies and makes new enemies. Also, Piglins are in this. They’re supposed to be in the Nether Update (1.16). They’re like villagers, except they like gold a little too much and live in the Nether.

It felt like it had been years. Herobrine’s physical body had grown stronger. Rather than being the scrawny, stringy child that he was when he left his village, he had grown into a powerful young man. His physical strength was impressive. He had fought and killed many mobs, from the zombies he had begin training on to the skeletons, to even massive spiders, endermen, and even a few zombie pigmen. On top of that, his abilities with a sword had gotten better. The Spirit Of The Farlands had proven to be an adequate teacher. 

His mental abilities had also gotten stronger. Herobrine’s reflexes had gotten strong enough to the point where he could sense what was happening so fast it was as if he could see the future. He easily defeated endermen and swarms of silverfish. And, to his surprise… he enjoyed it. He enjoyed striking the killing blow and watching the mob he was fighting explode into a million tiny particles, mingling with the acrid white smoke that indicated their death. 

For all the time he was there, Herobine neither ate nor slept. He had no need to. There was no hunger, no need to sleep. He never got hungry or tired. He was too busy training to be preoccupied with a trifle thing like that. He practiced almost every hour. Killing things was the only way he could make the odd disorienting feeling of the Farlands bearable. 

Then, after what felt like a long time, The Spirit called him forward.

He dropped into a bow. “What do you require of me, exalted one?”

_ Do you remember what you need to do to earn your sight? _ The Spirit asked.

“Yes, my master,” Herobrine answered. “I will bring you the Nether King’s spellbook, and you shall reward me with my sight.”

_ Good. _ The Spirit answered.  _ Now go to the edge of these lands. As long as you remain in this world, I will be able to speak with you, but those rules don’t apply in the Nether.  _

“Of course,” Herobrine answered, getting up. “Is there anything else I can do, Great Spirit?”

_ One last thing.  _ A crafting bench appeared in front of Herobrine, with a stick and two pieces of iron on the top.  _ A hero needs a sword. _

Herobrine rearranged the iron and sticks in the pattern needed, the one that the Spirit had forced him to memorize. The iron and stick trembled for a moment, turning white-hot, and melting together, creating a gleaming new iron sword.

Herobrine picked it up carefully, not touching the blade, and swung it in a couple of the sword forms he had been taught.

_ Oh, very nice. _ The Spirit snapped sarcastically.  _ Head out to the edge, will you? _

Herobrine rolled his eyes and began to walk through the strangely unnatural structures of the Farlands. The ground shifted and moved with his footsteps, pulling away from him, until he reached the edge. The grass grows greener here, and Herobrine closed his eyes, letting the bright sun warm him from head to toe.

He walked forward a few steps and realized that Debbie was standing in front of him, munching on the grass. That was odd. She looked up at him and nickered before going back to eating. That was odd. He could’ve sworn he had been in the Farlands for years. But… Debbie hadn’t aged at all.

“How much time has passed?” Herobrine asked, reaching out to pet Debbie.

_ Very little.  _ The Spirit answered in his head.  _ A couple of hours. A day at most. There is no time in the Farlands. _

A day? A few hours? Herobrine continued petting Debbie. He could’ve sworn that years had passed. He ran a hand over his arms and through his hair. Was Debbie always this short? Or had he grown taller? No longer was he a scrawny fifteen-year-old armed with nothing but an axe. Physically and mentally, he must be at least twenty, but was he still technically fifteen?

He sighed. All of this was hurting his head.

_ Your steed is less than noble. _ The Spirit commented.  _ I may have to make a few upgrades. _

Debbie snorted, and her soft dapple-gray coat darkened to a violent ebony color. Her peaceful brown eyes were overrun with a vibrant blood red, Her white mane and tail turned to a fiery orange-yellow color. Her dainty coal-black hooves turned a glittering silver and grew to be larger and more powerful. Finally, the mare’s body type changed from her normal slim form to a powerful, muscular build, like that of a warhorse. She snorted and then let out a shrill whinny.

“Woah,” Herobrine exclaimed. “What did you do?”

_ A hero deserves a steed he can count on.  _ The Spirit responded.  _ I have created a nightmare. _

“Am I ready yet?” Herobrine asked. 

_ Of course _ . The spirit answered. Behind Herobrine, the ground began to churn, and a black tornado formed, swirling black around in endless circles. Out of the tornado, several blocks of obsidian appeared, forming together to create a large doorway.

A portal.

Flint and steel appeared in Herobrine’s hands, and he stepped forward through the portal. Nothing happened. He sighed.

_ You did it wrong. _ The Spirit snapped.  _ Use the flint and steel to light the portal, oh, and take your horse with you. _

Herobrine nodded. “Of course.”

He struck the flint and steel together until a tiny spark, jumping from the two stones, landed on the obsidian.

Immediately, a massive purple flame flared up. It created the worst sounds Herobrine had ever heard, natural as wind but twisted to the point where that wasn’t wind any longer. That was the sound of another realm. He backed away from the portal and laid a hand on Debbie’s quivering flank. 

Easily, he swung up on the horse’s back and rode her in a wide circle, pulling her reigns to the point where the horse’s neck arched proudly.

He turned Debbie and, starting her at a gallop, rode straight through the portal into the Nether.

  
  
  


From the moment he entered, Herobrine hated the Nether. He hated the smell of sulphur and the smoke against his skin. He hated the gritty, sooty taste of the air, and he especially hated the way the air felt. It felt itchy, but the moment he went to scratch, the itchiness was gone. He shuddered uncomfortably.

There was an angry squeal ahead of him, and an entire pack of Zombie Piglens attacked him. Herobrine leapt from Debbie’s back as the horse was consumed with fire. He whipped out his iron sword and swung it in a wide arc, slicing the heads off two piglins easily. 

He darted past them and leapt down a short slope, sliding a bit, before he darted into a cave system inside the mountain. Running in turns, lumping up the higher levels and sliding down to lower levels, Herobrine froze when he realized all of the corridors had become less natural and more man-made. He slowed to a walk and continued through the corridors, pausing at the support beams that appeared to be holding up the ceiling.

He turned down another corridor and continued walked in, musing over the strange events in his head. How did the piglins know where his portal was going to open up? It couldn’t have been The Spirit, because The Spirit couldn’t control the Nether. Could it have been the Nether king? Did he have foresight abilities? Herobrine didn’t know.

“Hero?” A voice called from down the hallway. Herobrine froze, then spun around and attacked the person, throwing them against a wall and holding his sword up to their throat. 

“How do you know my name?” He demanded.

“Um,” The girl whimpered, flinching away from the blade of his sword. “I…”

“HOW!?!” He shouted in her face. 

“Herobrine, it’s me,” She whispered.

He relaxed when he realized who he was talking to. “Ella?”

She smiled bitterly. “It’s Entity 303, now, actually.”

Herobrine stared down at her, expecting to feel the way he did as a kid. He expected to feel some sort of… something. He wanted to feel love, but… couldn’t. Why? He didn’t know. He shook it off and decided to keep talking to Ella. “What are you doing in the Nether?”

She sighed and laid her forehead against his chest. “It was right after you left. We were attacked and so many of us were taken here. Fenwald and your mom were killed. Those of us who lived were taken here. Your dad is with another group of miners down the corridor to the left.”

For a moment, the magic suppressing his ability to feel love suddenly became invalid. He took Ella’s arm. He hated them. He hated them all. He hated the piglins who had killed his mother and his friend. He realized in shock that Ella’s arm was thin and boney. He felt himself trembling in rage, and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. How dare they. How dare these firey devils take his home and family away from him.

“But now you’re here, and you can help us break out,” Ella answered, moving her fingers to his muscular biceps. “Speaking of which, what happened to you? I mean, you disappeared, and now you’ve somehow aged five years. What the heck?”

Herobrine forced himself to smile. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later, but for now, I’m on a mission. I need to get the King Of The Nether’s ancient spellbook, then I’ll come and break you out. I promise.”

Ella sighed but smiled. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

Herobrine would have laughed if he felt anything, but instead, he untangled her arms from around him and turned away. “Yeah, sure. Hope to die and whatever.”

  
  


He entered the palace of the Nether King through the main entrance. To his surprise, no one tried to stop the blind overworld boy from entering the palace. Though he was out of his element, he knew that not delivering the spellbook to the Spirit of The Farlands would result in his own horrible tragedy.

Herobrine walked into a lavishly decorated throne room. Cauldrons of fire lit the throne room and gigantic pillars held up the ceiling. 

“Well well,” a voice across the room called. “What do we have here? An escaped slave?”

Herobrine realized that this must be the Nether King. The massive creature lay sprawled across a bloody red throne, built with the Nether rack and Nether Bricks of this awful realm. The Pig King had bronze-brown skin with yellowed tusks and beady black eyes. Herobrine stood up straighter and squared his shoulders. “Your highest majesty, I am Herobrine, no lowly slave.”

“Well, what do you want?” The Nether King asked, sounding frustrated. 

“I wish to read from your ancient spellbook,” Herobrine answered.  _ And steal it. And avoid a former friend so I can leave this terrible realm. _

The Nether Kind burst into laughter.

Herobrine stood his ground and squared his shoulders.

“Oh, heh,” The Nether King looked down at him. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am serious,” Herobrine said slightly rageful. “I wish to see your ancient book of spells.”

“Hmmm,” The Nether King stroked one of his tusks and stared at Herobrine. “Guards!” He shouted.

Herobrine had been prepared for this. One guard lunged at him, and he kicked the offending piglin in the face and bounced off the creature’s tusks. He took down the next guard with a quick slash of his sword and turned, facing the first guard easily. The two exchanged blows, but Herobrine’s iron sword proved to be no match for the creature’s measly golden one. He flipped the sword out of his opponent's hands and attacked viciously.

He sliced off his opponent’s head and turned to face the Nether King. Although Herobrine was blind, he had been told that when he looked up at people it gave off a weird, eerie vibe. He located the Nether King’s eyes and met them, staring as hard as he could, trying to look intimidating.

“What the…” The Nether King stared at Herobrine. “By Notch’s command, boy, what have you done!?”

Herobrine squared his shoulders again and tensed his muscles just in case he needed to make a speed attack. “I would like to see your ancient spellbook.”

“You can obviously hold your own in a fight,” The King mused. Then he smiled a big, hateful grin. “Fine. You may see my spellbook on one condition.”

“Yes?” Herobrine asked.

“You defeat me in a fight,” The Pig King grinned even wider.

Herobrine squared his shoulders and felt his back crack in a dozen places. “So be it, your majesty.”

  
  


It wasn’t until the roar of the crowds reached his ears that Herobrine realized that he didn’t exactly have a plan.

He had never observed the Nether King in combat, and the only battle experience he had ever had with Piglins was with the two guards, who obviously had minimal training. He mused over this for a while before he realized that, since the guards had used gold, there was a good chance the king would too, which seriously helped Herobrine’s chances of winning.

Herobrine was standing in front of a netherrack cage-like structure. The purple colors of the cage were lost to him, but he flexed his back, feeling his muscles ripple in a dozen places.

He stepped inside the cage, but before the door could shut a voice called out.

“WAIT!” Someone ran up to him. Herobrine recognized her from her voice as Ella.

“What?” He asked the overworld girl. Silly child. She was always interrupting his plans. It was as if she was in love with him or something. Bah. Love was a trifle thing anyhow. Herobrine, however, was not looking forward to the conversation where he explained that he wasn’t in love with her. 

“Here,” She gently affixed something to the front of his shirt. Herobrine reached up and realized that it was a pin of a tiny gold sword. “For luck.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before the Piglins dragged her out of the cage.

“Wait,” Herobrine called to her. “What are you doing out of the mines?”

“All the slaves get to come watch the fight!” Ella shouted as the creaking of gears and the jolt of the cage told him that he was about to enter the arena. “You’ll do great!” She shouted, but it was muffled as the cage-elevator traveled up through several layers of netherrack and emerged out into the arena.

The cheering of the crowd was making Herobrine dizzy, and he turned in a full circle, realizing that the arena was an oblong, oval shape, not entirely circular. He also realized that he had probably emerged from a trapdoor on the arena floor. Ahead of him, Herobrine could sense a similar cage had brought the Nether King up, who was dressed handsomely in a full suit of armor. I mean, only if you could call a clothing-wearing giant hog handsome.

A young piglin stepped out into the arena, carrying a scroll. He glanced down at it, and then, raising his voice, addressed the crowds.

“Welcome everyone!” He shouted, and the arena exploded with noise. Piglins shouted and whistled and stamped, making far more noise than Herobrine would have liked, but no matter. He would simply have to deal with it. The young piglin continued with his speech. “Someone has challenged our great King!” He spread his arms out. The crowd went wild.

“On our right,” The piglin boy said, sweeping his hands in the direction of the Nether King. “Our, amazing, wonderful, handsome; KING YGUL!”

The crowd went wild again, stamping and shouting and whistling. 

“But on our left,” The piglin boy said, and the crowd hushed. “A newcomer, from the land above, a strange boy, you may have seen those like him as slaves or servants in your own households… HEROBRINE!”

The crowd, the Herobrine’s surprise, also went wild. Yeah, a few brave Piglen were booing him, but for the most part, it appears that the Nether citizens had come to watch a fight. And a fight is what they will see.

The Piglin boys stepped out onto a small circular platform that slowly fell into the ground, taking him off the Arena.

The two cage doors opened simultaneously, and the Nether king leapt out with a sinister roar. Herobrine waited a moment before turning and running to the opposite end of the cage, jumping off the wall and leaping over the Pig Kin’s head. 

He slashed at his opponent but missed. The Nether King sprang forward with a snarl and attacked Herobrine. Herobrine swung and parried his opponent’s blows. The two faced off.

Ygul attacked Herobrine again, this time aiming for the young warrior’s legs. Herobrine leaped up in his tusks and managed to skewer one of the King’s eyes.

The King roared in pain and stumbled backward. Herobrine stepped backward a few feet as the crowd gasped. Ygul, still clutching his injured eye, snarled at Herobrine and grabbed the overworld boy, smashing him into the barrier that separated him from the audience.

The crowd roared, but the slave section gasped. 

“See,” Ygul laughed. “You are weak. You dare defy me? I will kill you, and roast your heart on a spit and then eat it whole because you dare to defy me. You will die and no one will dare to rise up against me ever again.”

“HERO!” Ella called. “THE PIN!”

Herobrine struggled against the pig king’s grip and managed to lay a hand on the pin Ella had given him.

“WHAT DOES IT DO?!” He shouted back.

“THROW IT!” Ella answered. 

With no other option, Herobrine flung the pin at his feet and it exploded. The Nether King was flung backward with a scream of rage. The crowd hushed.

Herobrine stepped out of the blue smoke from the pin and approached the fallen form of the Nether King. Ygul struggled to get up, as Herobrine pressed a foot down on the creature’s chest.

He jerked Ygul’s enchanted sword from his grasp and swung it up in a wide arc before bringing it down on the Nether King’s neck, severing his head.

The entire crowd watched in a pregnant silence.

Herobrine raised his sword as the body of the Nether King dissolved into white smoke. 

“PEOPLE OF THE NETHER,” He shouted. “I AM YOUR KING NOW!”

The slaves exploded into cheers while the other piglen watched in shock.

Herobrine grinned with the adrenaline and exhilaration of defeating something. Ella leapt over the barrier and ran over to him, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the lips.

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.

Herobrine froze, then gently pushed the girl off of him.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, looking a bit embarrassed. “I just got excited.”

“No, no,” Herobrine answered, taking her hand. “You’re okay.”

He raised her hand skyward and the crowd got the message and went wild. Herobrine grinned ear-to-ear. All that was left now was to grab the spellbook and he would receive his sight. Maybe he could barter for his ability to feel love as well. 

But for now, all he could do was stand and grin.

**A/N: Random Fact #1: King Ygul’s name is an anagram for Ugly.**


	4. The King

Herobrine opened the dusty spellbook and flipped through it, sensing the pages. He couldn’t read, so he was just going off of the pictures, which was also rather difficult to do, considering his sensing abilities weren’t that strong.

“What are you looking for?” Ella asked as he thumbed another page. She was curled up on a council member’s chair, in the King’s Council Chambers of the Nether Palace. Herobrine had taken her here almost immediately after he had won the throne. She was irritating, yes, but she had so much potential. The potential to grow into someone very powerful.

“There’s supposedly a spell in here,” He licked his fingers and continued flipping. “That grants power.”

“Why would you need that?” Ella asked as he turned another page. “Didn’t the Spirit of the Farlands grant you power or whatever?”

“Yes,” Herobrine answered, and went back to another page. “He did. But you need power too if you wish to become the queen of the Nether.”

“Queen?” Ella asked, looking up. “What are you implying?”

Herobrine moved his face up to where he was staring at her. “This is what you want, right?” He asked.

“Well, yes, I just, um,” She trailed off. “I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.”

“Here,” Herobrine glanced down at the page. “I found it.”

Ella looked confused.

“Step into the center of the room,” Herobrine instructed.

“This won’t hurt, will it?” Ella asked nervously, pulling her legs closer to her chest.

“It might,” Herobrine said, looking down the page.

Ella rolled her eyes. “Well,  _ that’s _ reassuring.”

“Mmhm,” Herobrine grunted. He glanced at a guard at the door. “Find me a piglin who can read.”

“Yes sir,” The Guard turned and left the room, returning a moment later with the young piglin who had been the announcer back in the arena.

Herobrine stared in his direction. “Can you read?”

The Piglin boy nodded nervously, “Yes sir.”

“Come over here,” Herobrine instructed. The piglin boy shuddered but moved forward at the prodding of the guard. He swallowed audibly.

Herobrine felt the grin as it crept across his face. “Yes, you should be afraid of me.”

The Piglin Boy ducked his head. “What do you require of me, your majesty?” He mumbled.  
“Read this,” Herobrine handed him the spellbook.

The Piglin Boy nodded with a gulp, taking the book and looking down at the pages.

“Ella,” Herobrine instructed. “Move to the center of the room.”

Ella nodded and got up from her chair, taking her place in the center of the room. She looked at Herobrine quizzically, but he ignored her. The sooner she had power, the better. 

He nodded to the Piglin Boy, who began reading.

“Um, skeelix,” He began. “Keeli, neptide, donner, afart, zhfude, jaghen, leomiz,” He stopped when dark black-red energy began to surround Entity 303. She glanced around nervously.

“Continue the spell!” Herobrine half-shouted. 

“Oh, okay, um,” The Piglin Boy said nervously, looking back at the paper. “Treffix, ifhu, thudaski, phadifsaj, maller, jaxil, zeepu!” He finished and looked up.

The dark black clouds that had begun surrounding Ella were now sprouting bright red lightning. She looked down nervously as the clouds formed over her entire body. She shot Herobrine a panicked look before her face was hidden by the smoke.

The clouds swirled around for a moment before solidifying and falling away from her in shards of black glass. They hit the ground and exploded into a billion little pieces.

Herobrine observed the girl that sat on the ground in the center of the room. She looked up at him with a small smile. 

Her skin was black, but not the healthy darkness you might find naturally, no, her skin looked like someone had melted obsidian and dipped her in it. Ella’s normally soft dark eyes were now a bleeding red color. The ragged miner’s clothes she had been wearing before were gone, replaced by a simple white outfit, from her soft t-shirt down to her rabbit-hide boots. Around her shoulders hung a snow-colored cloak.

In other words, she was breathtaking. Herobrine could no longer feel love, compassion, or empathy, but he could most certainly feel lust. And lust he did. The delicate curves of Ella’s new body spoke to a part of him that had been dormant until now.

Almost to dazzled to even speak, he held out a hand, and she took it gingerly. He helped her up, and he realized that in her new form, she was almost as tall as he was. 

She looked down at herself with those breathtaking red eyes. “How- how do I look?” She asked nervously.

Herobrine wrapped an arm around her shoulders, relishing the feel of her. “Like a queen.”

She smiled up at him, and he grinned back. The little blind boy who listened to stories was gone. In his place stood a king, a leader, a ruler. Herobrine grinned even wider. It was good to be him.

“I believe that I want a new name,” Ella finally said. “After all, ‘Ella’ is no name for a queen.”

“Take your pick,” Herobrine offered. If she was happy, then she was much less likely to rebel against him and he wouldn’t have to kill her, which was something he wasn’t particularly looking forward too. At least, not until he had discovered every square inch of her new form.

Ella looked over at the piglin boy, who was still in the room. “You’re dismissed.”

He nodded and fled the room.

Ella turned back to Herobrine with a sultry smile. “Where were we?” She asked.

“You would like a new name,” He suggested. “How does Maleficium sound?”

“Too long,” She answered. “Not to mention a little weird.”

“Do you have any ideas for your new name?” Herobrine asked her.

“I don’t know,” She answered. “But I was thinking of just going by my number.”

“Your number?” Herobrine asked, a little confused.

“Servant number; Entity Three-Zero-Three,” She answered. “Or just Entity 303.”

“That’s not very regal,” Herobrine pointed out.

“Regality aside,” Ella said. “I like it. Besides, I’m already used to it and stuff, so I wouldn’t have to change anything.”

“Alright, Entity 303,” Herobrine addressed her. “Shall I escort you to your quarters?”

“Oh of course,” She purred. “Then we’ll see what happens from there.”

Herobrine grinned; being King was going to be so much better than he imagined.

  
  


It felt like years, but Herobrine was finally ready. He was going to lead an army back to the Overworld and avenge his honor. It was time for the people of Minecraft to realize that  _ he _ was in charge.

This time, he was leading his army on foot. Debbie was dead, and Herobrine would rather die than ride one of the Piglin’s ugly, smelly, war beasts. Instead, the animals were mounted with several Piglins and Zombie Piglins. Herobrine had ordered an obsidian portal large enough to allow piglin beasts through to be built, and now here he stood, holding the flint and steel that would take him home, whether he liked it or not.

He knelt beside the portal and sparked the flint and steel, and it suddenly flared up, the same way portals always did, with that horrible ear-tearing noise and the ugly, hideous purple color that burned his eyeballs.

A roar of approval assaulted Herobine’s ears from the army behind him. Several piglins licked their lips, anticipating the fresh blood that this mission would bring.

Herobrine grinned, and, taking the former king’s diamond sword in hand, stepped through the portal. 

He emerged in a dark, snowy forest. It was late at night in the overworld, and Herobrine hadn’t expected this, although he probably should have, considering there was no night or day in the Nether.

He took a deep breath and exhaled white clouds of mist like some sort of odd dragon. Walking forward a few feet, he could see the lights of a little village through the trees.

A group of skeletons walked past and stopped to stare at him. He grinned. Now he wouldn’t have to use any of his soldiers to get inside the village, he could just use these expandable reanimated bags of bones.

He spoke to them quickly, and they agreed. Mobs always agreed to anything involving attacking people. Not to mention that Herobrine radiated the same power that any King of the Nether did, that which was dangerous and hate-filled. No sane creature would dare refuse him anything.

The rest of the army began to approach the ridge overlooking the little town. Herobrine grinned at the small settlement, in the middle of this spruce wood forest. It would fall soon.

He raised his sword towards the little town, and with one word, changed the course of hundreds of lives. “Attack.”

He thought she looked familiar. 

A little girl was running through the burning city, dodging sharp glass shards and wood splinters that littered the ground. She tripped on something, but leapt up and kept running, towards the gate is what it looked like.

“DADDY!” She screamed in terror, and Herobrine followed her gaze to a man fiercely fighting against the invading skeletons. 

With a jolt, Herobrine realized why she looked so familiar. The man fighting invading skeletons was Mr. Archer, the man he had met while traveling to the Farlands, which meant that this little girl must be… oh, what was her name? Amelia? Amberly? Ashton? Alex? Alex!

Herobrine watched in fascination as a skeleton’s arrow pierced Mr. Archer’s ribcage. He frowned. Something was amiss. Normally, he would feel satisfied, excited, or even exhilarated at seeing such a swift death, but this time, it was just… boring.

Alex screamed in fear and took off in the opposite direction of where she had been originally heading, this time heading towards Herobrine. She leapt up and tried to dart over a low wall, but it was too high for her and her foot caught. She fell flat on her face directly in front of Herobrine.

He leaned down and took one of her hands in his.

“Who are you?” She asked him, as he pulled her up.

He laughed. “I’m afraid there’s no definite answer to that. Come, child.”

Herobrine helped the girl up, and lead her out of the flaming village. They climbed the ridge at the edge of town easily, and walk into the dark forest, towards the wavering purple portal.

“Where are we going?” Alex asked Herobrine. 

He smiled grimly. “Home.”

  
  


Herobrine felt odd. 

His stomach hurt, but he wasn’t sick. There was a weird lump in his throat, but he couldn’t cry. His mouth was dry, but no matter how much water he drank, it stayed that way.

He didn’t understand this odd feeling. Not to mention that it was getting rather annoying.

Herobrine was relaxed across his throne, thinking. He must be sick, but with what? What sort of sickness made someone feel  _ this _ terrible? Then it hit him. He wasn’t sick at all, he was being controlled. This was no natural illness, this was the Spirit Of The Farlands placing a curse on him.

Herobrine swore under his breath, then got up and pulled the spellbook from under his throne. He turned and left the palace. It was much easier than he had originally anticipated because none of the Piglins would ever dare stop him.

He slipped down through the lower levels of the Nether until he finally arrived at what he was searching for: The Portal to the Farlands.

With a deep breath, Herobrine stepped through to the other side.

The Farlands weren't anything like he’d remembered. They felt older and almost seemed to be falling apart. Sensing the place where he had received much of his training falling apart was rather… unnerving. Gritting his teeth, Herobrine entered the Farlands.

_ Well, _ the familiar voice of the Spirit entered his head.  _ And here I thought you abandoned me. _

“I have returned with the Spellbook which you sought,” Herobrine said, trying to keep any hint of fear out of his voice. 

_ Ssssso you have, _ The voice hissed in a snakelike way.  _ Interesting. _

“Give me my sight!” Herobrine demanded.

_ Hmmm, _ The Voice considered.  _ How about something else… your ability to feel love? _

Pain smashed through his chest, and Herobrine fell to his knees with a scream of anguish. He had known pain, even to the point of emotional pain, but this,  _ this _ was no ordinary anxiety, depression or hopelessness. This was  _ agony _ .

He sobbed into his hands, and everything he’d done returned to him. The Piglin King was dead and it was  _ his _ fault. He had killed someone in cold blood. A village lay in ruins and it was because of Herobrine. He had taken away the lives of so many people. But what of Alex and Ella? Both were hurt because of him. Ella’s pretty face, hair, and body were gone, replaced by something to fuel Herobrine’s lust. Alex’s parents were dead, and she was far from her home, trapped in the Nether where she shouldn’t be.

Tears dripped down his face and onto his chin. All of it was his fault. All because he couldn’t just be happy without his ability to see. “Take it away,” He begged the Spirit. “Make it stop. End this agony. You’re a powerful spirit. Please. Restore things to the way they once were.”

_ I cannot, _ The Spirit answered simply.  _ I can restore your mental state, but what has been done has been done. You cannot undo it. _

Herobrine felt the agony drain away from his body and took a shaky breath. It hurt so bad, but it was over now. Nothing would ever hurt him again.

He sighed and sensed around himself, before setting the Spellbook on the floor and standing back up. “You promised me sight.”

_ Perhaps you should not have made deals with a devil _ , The Spirit pointed out. 

Herobrine found himself trembling with rage. “GIVE ME MY SIGHT!”

_ You- you don’t understand! _ The Spirit stammered frantically.  _ I don’t have that power anymore! I’m fading! They’ve found me and are removing me as we spe- _

The Spirit never finished that sentence. The entire world heald it’s breath and then suddenly, with a glitchy ‘bzzt’ noise, the Farlands were gone.

Herobrine was sitting in an empty field. He got up and sensed around himself. There was nothing there. He picked up the spellbook and moved back to his portal. He sensed around once more, but there was nothing. There never was anything. It was gone. It was all gone.

He stepped through the portal with a sigh.

  
  


Time passed. 

Alex grew from being a scrawny youngster who could barely shoot a bow to a magnificent warrior that the creatures of the Nether feared. She lead armies, commanded underlings and observed human slaves.

Entity 303 lost her mind. She was no longer ‘Ella’, but the Queen of the Nether. No one would challenge her for that position. The little girl that had grown up in the Overworld and had a crush on a little blind boy was gone. In her place was a mindless maniac who did not value life or love as she once did. She became obsessed with Herobrine, wanting him, wanting his attention, his affection, to the point where she would kill soldiers or servants just so he would scold her. 

Herobrine was lost. He hated this new hell that was his life, he hated that his spawn point had been taken away. Now, if he died, there would be no way for him to come back. He was, you could say, scared. 

He was never scared before.

He shouldn’t be now.

But he was.

And he hated it.

  
  


She was running away.

Herobrine knew this, and he also knew she wouldn’t get very far. She would soon fall. Either back to him, or off a cliff. He didn’t know which.

However, fate had decided this long before she could. Alex leaped over a stone and slipped off a cliff with a scream of fear.

Her screams were cut off simultaneously with the sound of her body hitting the ground and exploding into white smoke. Herobrine climbed down the cliffside, unwilling to meet a similar fate, and examined the few items that had been left behind after her death. He knew where she would respawn, he had seen it before. His guard surrounded him nervously as he carefully picked up the bow and arrows he had given her.

“Well,” Herobrine said, as his guards stared at the place where the girl’s body had once lain. “I believe it’s time we pay my brother a visit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that’s all, folks. Also, If you read this before reading my other Minecraft Story, then let’s just say you might know all the spoilers.


End file.
